


Nine to Five

by 26stars



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU August, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Prank Wars, The Office AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 16:45:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15733437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/pseuds/26stars
Summary: Melinda May could have done things the easy way, but where's the fun in that?The Office AU// au prompt "We work in the same office and you have a goddamn squeaky chair and you wONT FUCKING STOP SQUEAKING IT BECAUSE YOU KNOW IT ANNOYS ME"





	Nine to Five

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something new for AU August--this one's not necessarily an AU /meeting/ so I'm not adding it to my 'how i met melinda' collection but it runs in the same vein.
> 
> I'm blatantly using some of Jim’s best pranks for this one rather than coming up with my own...because his are epic and because I'm lazy. I actually have never watched an entire episode of The Office, but we all know any prank war between Skye and May would be at least this legendary.

Melinda is a grown woman, thank you very much, and by this age she has certainly acquired the ability to tune out unnecessary noise. This is not about how loud or how constantly the girl whose desk faces hers is squeaking her desk chair.

It’s about the way she has the nerve to keep doing it.

Melinda had asked her only once, politely, if she could please not make her chair squeak like that. Skye is a (young) adult, and that should have been all that was needed to make their office a little quieter. And it was, for all of two days. But soon enough, Skye had tested the waters again—squeaking her chair whenever Melinda was on the phone but stopping as soon as she hung up. Squeaking it for all of five seconds and stopping the second Melinda looked in her direction.

Melinda might have gotten angry if it had been a man, lording presumed power over her like that. But coming from Skye, this feels more like a playful challenge. The girl always seems to be holding back a smile (or possibly a smirk) whenever she pokes the bear, and since Melinda knows the situation is hardly worth reporting higher, she decides to play along and see where things go.

Because, while she would never admit it, the truth is that the only thing Melinda loves more than playing games like this is winning them.

* * *

 

Skye has no doubt who’s behind it when she sits down at her desk one day to discover that all her pens and pencils have been replaced with crayons. Melinda doesn’t make eye contact with her all morning _(subtle, aren’t you?),_ and Skye chooses not to react outwardly beyond her initial confusion. She eventually finds all her pens in one of the envelopes in a drawer of her desk, so now she’s got pens _and_ a box of new crayons, so there, Melinda May. Thanks for the stocking stuffer.

She packs up the crayons in her purse and squeaks her chair a little extra that afternoon.

The next day, she comes back from lunch to find several items missing from her desk and Melinda nowhere in sight. Eventually, she finds her in the breakroom, calmly finishing a cup of tea and her lunch.

“Where’s my stuff?” Skye asks without prelude.

The older woman looks up at her coolly. “What stuff?”

Skye props a hand on her hip and stares her down. “My pencil cup, my name placard, my computer mouse—you know what I’m talking about,” she says impatiently.

Melinda just takes another sip of her tea. “Did you lose them? Try retracing your steps. But here, have some change.” She suddenly stands up, crumpling her lunch sack in one hand and offering a Ziploc bag of nickels to Skye with the other. Skye takes them automatically, confused until Melinda walks out and Skye looks after her, realizing what’s happened when her eyes land on the vending machine.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, approaching the glass door.

B7—her name placard.

E9—her mouse.

C2—her pencil cup.

H1—her _wallet_?

* * *

The next day, they’re both on high alert, but Melinda doesn’t catch on to Skye’s latest prank until they’ve been on the clock over an hour.

Every time she types _no_ in any document, it autocorrects to ‘hellz yeah’

 _Company_ becomes ‘hizzy’

 _Request_ becomes ‘gimme’

She has no idea how many words Skye’s managed to switch. But Melinda has to admit that she’s impressed.

Skye squeaks her chair all morning that day, and Melinda says nothing.

* * *

 

The next day when Skye walks into the office, she can see from the door that her desk is covered in wrapping paper.

And not just her desk.

Her computer monitor. Her lamp. Her printer. The CPU under the desk. Every individual item in her area actually.

Even her chair.

“How long did this take you?” Skye mutters as she passes Melinda’s chair.

“Happy birthday,” Melinda mutters back, not looking up from the file in front of her.

It is, in fact, her birthday, and Skye feels surprisingly touched for all of ten seconds.

Then she tries to sit down, and her chair falls to pieces beneath her, spilling her gracelessly onto the carpet.

 _Now_ it’s war.

* * *

 

Melinda is already at her desk (which she has already searched thoroughly for any surprises) when Skye walks in the next morning. She watches out of the corner of her eye as the girl moves past the front desk without stopping to greet her boyfriend, goes straight to her desk, and starts putting her stuff away.

Melinda has hidden a surprise in the keyboard drawer, and she can’t help glancing over at Skye as she sits down.

It takes her a second to realize what Skye’s prank is today.

They’re dressed in the exact same outfit. Right down to the jewelry.

Melinda turns over her shoulder to stare pointedly at Lincoln, the receptionist, guessing that he must have called Skye to tell her what to wear today. The speed at which he turns away from them and stares at his computer monitor tells her that she’s guessed right.

Skye doesn't jump when she encounters the layer of sticky saran wrap Melinda had put over her keyboard or the smear of Vaseline she left on her mouse. She just grimaces, sighs pointedly, and tosses the plastic in the trash.

Just like Melinda would have done.

A few phone calls into the day, Melinda notices that Skye is also imitating her mannerisms, her way of speaking…

Melinda doesn’t make eye contact with her even once, but she can’t help feeling a little proud of Skye’s effort in this particular prank.

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, after all.

* * *

 

The next day, _every_ single person in the office calls her Mary. All day. No one will admit to being put up to it by May, but there isn’t a doubt in Skye’s mind who’s behind it.

She’s also wondering how the woman found out her birth name.

* * *

The next morning when Melinda comes in to work, her desk is gone.

Not out of place, not vandalized, just gone.

Skye is already seated at her own desk, looking unabashedly smug.

“Where is it,” Melinda asks humorlessly, staring the girl down.

“Did you misplace it?” Skye asks, cocking her head innocently.

“Where’s my desk, Skye?” Melinda repeats, taking what is supposed to be a threatening step forward.

The girl just shrugs. “Not sure—did you try retracing your steps?”

“This is theft, Skye,” Melinda glowers, “now tell me where it is or I’m reporting you right now to Coulson.”

Skye just holds her gaze with that smug smile, so Melinda turns and takes a few steps towards their boss’s office.

“Colder.”

Melinda pauses, looking back at Skye. She looks like a shameless puppy, just wanting to play.

Melinda takes a step in the other direction.

“Warmer.”

Melinda rolls her eyes and lets Skye guide her through the whole office.

She finds her desk in the men’s bathroom, set up just like always. All the cords and plugs are connected. And her phone is ringing.

* * *

 

After the missing-desk prank, Skye was sure that Melinda’s payback would be something fearsome. Four agonizing days pass, however, and there is no sign of retribution from the other woman. Coulson hasn’t come down on them, so she doubts Melinda is laying off in the face of a reprimand. Skye also has a feeling that this in itself could be part of the prank—lulling her into a false sense of security before breaking out the big guns…

She tries not to let her guard down even for a second in case she’s right.

The following Tuesday, Skye gets to work early (not to set up a prank but to make sure that Melinda doesn’t have the chance to do the same). She answers emails while her co-workers trickle in, and she is so focused on ignoring Melinda’s arrival that it at first doesn’t register that a stranger has sat down at the desk across from hers.

Skye stares at the blonde for nearly a minute before the woman meets her eyes with a peeved expression.

“Something wrong?” the blonde asks in Melinda’s exact tone. She’s wearing a blouse and blazer that Skye recognizes from Melinda’s wardrobe. She has the same earrings Melinda always wears and the same wedding ring.

 _But what the actual_ …

“Where’s Melinda?” Skye asks, staring quizzically at the blonde.

“What are you talking about, Skye?” the woman says, entering a password on the phone to check her messages.

Skye reaches over and disconnects the cord. “You’re not Melinda—don’t mess with her phone.”

“Skye, don’t push your luck,” the woman says as she reconnects the phone, still hitting Melinda’s exact tone and timbre with every syllable.

“What is Melinda paying you to _be_ her today?” Skye asks, leaning forward in her chair. “Hope it’s more than what she makes in a day if you’re having to learn on the job.

“Skye, _I’m_ Melinda,” the woman says humorlessly, bringing the handset to her ear. “And I’ve got work to do.”

“No you’re not—this is Melinda,” Skye says, picking up the single framed picture on the desk—one of Melinda and her husband—and holding it up for the blonde to see.

The blonde glances at the frame, then looks pointedly up at Skye with Melinda’s exact glare.

Skye turns the picture around and feels her brain short-circuit—it’s a picture of the blonde and Melinda’s husband.

Skye drops the picture and goes straight into Coulson’s office.

* * *

 

After the stunt of sending in an actress to play her for the week, Coulson had finally called them both into his office. Bobbi had been a good sport and had played her part perfectly while the prank lasted, but Coulson had made it clear that it needed to be the last of them.

“Truce?” he says, looking at the two them across his desk.

“Fine,” Melinda says first, hopefully encouraging Skye to do the same.

“Okay,” Skye says, her eyes down in a manner that doesn’t seem insincere.

“Good,” their supervisor says, nodding. “Now get back to work. And if there are any leftover booby traps in the office, I want them taken down before you clock out tonight.”

Melinda nods, unable to keep from barely smiling to herself.

~

The first time Skye answers the phone after lunch, she punches herself in the face with the handset.

**Author's Note:**

> The last prank was the "nickels in the phone" trick, in case you didn't get it. ;)


End file.
